


play your cards right

by 4dreamie



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pet Names, Poker, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, cocky jungwoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 19:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18531766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4dreamie/pseuds/4dreamie
Summary: jungwoo comes face to face in an intense game of poker with the infamous player j. who will win the game?





	play your cards right

_ It’s electrifying. _

The atmosphere,  charged with caution and rigged luck.

Bitter chuckles, mocking taunts, mumbled curses and the sweet sound of chips clattering. Crowds around tables, blinking slot machines, shouts about bets. There is a tension in the air, the one caused by taking risks and the cold sweat that comes with it. A final check is made somewhere over there and the gathered bystanders applaud. It nearly drowns out the smooth jazz filling the background but it’s nothing Jungwoo pays attention to anyway.

No, the click of his shoes on the stone floor does not halt at the commotion of the countless tables, lecherous greed roused up by cheering masses, waving money, placing bets, losing or winning it all. Those games hold no interest to him, way too public, too exposed,  _ too little to win _ .

Neither does he spare thoughts to the lingering stares that he feels glide along the seams of his black slim fit suit, stretching across his torso, displaying all the allure his figure had to offer as he glided through the excited masses of the casino. If the eyes following him call out his name in joyous speculation, whisper it with apprehension, or are left guessing what forms their lips would have to take as they moaned underneath his body, it makes no difference, they all are met with a cold shoulder.

There was a time when Jungwoo would have indulged in it all, gambling with both the cards and his opponents hearts, returning lustern gazes until he had no longer pay for a single drink the whole night, each payed by another poor soul trying to win his affection - not that he couldn’t have afforded his drinks, he would have won enough in one of those nights to empty the whole bar, taking place in front of green velvet, the sound of chips sliding across, the shuffle of cards, the concealed expressions of mirth all too familiar. Game after game, late into the night, his partners changing throughout but he kept the earnings, no matter who it was that put them on the table.

Naturally, Jungwoo soon had a reputation, people asking, nearly  _ begging _ , to play him and him leaving behind a trace of angry minds with debts lacing their bank accounts.

The money never really interested him, but he had to say, it was a nice bonus he did not complain about as he soon were draping himself in the finest silks that bore the elegant mark of only the best designers and developed a liking to shoes with only a sole of red.

And Jungwoo soon realized, the real thrill in the game came with the stacks of money the players put on the table. It’s easy to lose a game if it’s the only thing that is being lost. He learned, that the more money is involved, the more risk are going to be taken, and soon, he couldn’t be bothered with all the little games out in the open of the casino anymore. It was no fun winning a few hundreds or thousands of honest players that fell victim to an addiction, the amount of all their earnings not making any real difference to his own bank account.

No, for him to play a real incentive was needed. Names of big shots and six figure numbers.

So, more often than not, he found himself in the private rooms; eerie moods, air stale from lit cigarettes and whiskeys on the rock ordered but never tasted to not fall into the haze induced by alcohol blurring thoughts in dimly lit suites becoming his home.

Jungwoo soon was rumoured about, an epithet given and used as a name that spread fast through the gossiping mouths of the regular casino goers, a ruthless player with incredible skill and an appearance to match, mingling only with the higher leagues, no regards of any dangers he might run into, no fear of sore losers with hidden weapons or rulers of the underground with a knack for violence and murder.

For Jungwoo, it was all part of the thrill.

He came back again and again, smiling through all his loses and all the wins. And here he was once more, heading straight towards the back where all the private rooms were, into a game where all players were known by their skill or rather, their reputation and carefully hidden identities. A bunch of hustlers and cheats and only the best of them -  _ and Jungwoo fitted right in _ .

He was the last one taking his seat, everyone else already settled, some faces laced with mirth, others already unreadable. Last orders for drinks are given, jacket buttons opened and necks stretched.

The silent agreement to start is given as he straightens his back, face settling into a neutral expression, and a pale hand reaches for the deck of cards in the middle of the table, ready to deal. There is no need to decide on who, all knowing the gambler that would take the cards first. With a seemingly blasé look on his face that hides his analyzing intention he never once let his eyes trail away from the shuffled cards, knowing that the man - Yuta - has always had a knack for dealing, and the little tricks and perks one can give himself, that comes with it.

He looks down right lazy, dark hair that falls into his eyes matching the black suit and gaze nonchalantly trailing around the room but his fingers are swift and if he pulled anything, Jungwoo didn’t not notice it. A skilled hustler - just how he liked his opponents.

But he’s not the only one Jungwoo has to be aware of, it’s not like the people seated next to him are any less harmless. Taeyong, as always dressed in eccentric velvet suits and expensive watches, one of the biggest gamblers out there, known for his ability to always win just barely by a higher value, no matter which game, and Doyoung, all quirks of his pink tinted lips masked by the perfect, unreadable poker face and a  _ lucky  _ hand at getting matching suits. 

But Jungwoo was not interested in any of them, having played and figured out all of them before.

If He were to lose to them tonight, he would not mind. Oh no, it is the man dressed in solely Gucci sitting right in across from him, large features eyeing him with the same curiosity that is mirrored in Jungwoo’s own thoughts, that is his ambition.

He has heard about him often enough, another infamous player, a rumour that everyone knows about, a name that sparked an itch in his fingertips to play against him.

A reckless player, seemingly not caring about losing all his money as he bets and bets and bets yet always somehow walking out with more than he came in with, a wild card who’s playing style seemed to fluctuate with moods and an affinity to bluff that made him as unpredictable as unreadable, with a face that defies humanities standards, looking like it’s carved by angel themselves and refined by the devils hands.

_ J _

That is what the casino calls him, a mere letter to make up for a name he is not willing to grant but it served him well enough, so why bother to change it? And it is enough for Jungwoo, anyway, there is no need to know anything else. The only thing he wants is to see the defeat in his eyes as he leaves the room with his money.

It’s easy to keep his  eyes trailed on J, watch him carefully gauge the other players reaction, long fingers absentmindedly playing with a stack of chips, long lashes brushing the top of his cheek bones as he lazily lets his eyes wander.

But he is truly skilled, his face vacant and leaving Jungwoo to wonder what is going on inside his mind. There is not the slightest hint to what his cards have to offer, and it only being the first round, it is too early to have his playing style figured out. With any other person, Jungwoo would have concentrated on the game, passing up a few rounds, losing a few others until he had them unravel in his mind to the point he can predict their every move. Yet, with him, Jungwoo cannot bring himself to shift his attention, the lines of his features mesmerizing him, until he wondered what it might feel like to feel his lips on his own.

And is if he has read Jungwoo’s thoughts, the man shifts and looks straight into his eyes, irises the color of bitter coffee boring into his as he rises an eyebrow in a near suggestive manner.

A mere brink of a moment later, his face is a blank card once more, no trace of emotion to be found as he waits for Yuta to either check or fold. But he does neither, wordlessly pushing another stack of chips into the middle, raising the pot.

Jungwoo’s thoughts finally return to the game at that, and without even having to double check his cards again, he knows, this round is lost for him. J, however, goes along without as much as blinking an eye and before he knows it everyone has folded and the pot goes towards him.

Rounds after round passes just like that, and Jungwoo gets caught in the flow of it all, the itch in the tips of his fingers, the anticipation of what the unveiling of the next card will bring, and even the little tricks, well done and invisible to spot, cards cautiously hidden in the sleeves of his suit to the quick handed swapping.

It’s addicting, really, the feeling of the adrenaline rushing through his body, the atmosphere heavy with tension as to who will walk away with heavier pockets and who just might will have to learn the heavy weight of debt and humiliation.

But J is still lingering in his mind, as unpredictable to him as he was before he stepped into the room, he is still a riddle Jungwoo has yet to decipher and he has to admit, he lives up to all of the rumours. There is no consistency to his playing, fluctuating between styles and strategies, Jungwoo cannot find any logic in it, and as the rounds pass, the desire to crush him ignites flaming embers in him.

The sound of shuffling sounds through the otherwise quiet room once more and as the cards slide over the green velvet, everyone memorizing their current hand and checking their winnings so far, there is a shift in the air, the tension spirals into the endless and everyone is suddenly aware, this is the last round, this decides it all.

Cold shivers run down Jungwoo’s spine as he feels the mood change and he eyes the amount of chips everyone still has resting in their possession. They have gone from person to person, and it seems, the majority is currently sitting next to J’s graceful hands. This is the last chance for everyone to get their money back, and for Jungwoo, to win his first round and find rest in his defeat.

He sneaks a last glance into his cards -  _ the jack and ten of hearts _ \- Jungwoo idly calls, pushing his chips into the middle, seeing no need to raise the already made bet. Next to him Taeyong does the same, no one folding so far. Seems like everyone is still hoping to take it all.

Finding J’s eyes once more, he shoots him quick smirk, a glint akin to mischief in his eyes, but there is something more in there, a certain shimmer, it’s nearly unreadable but he still catches it. 

It clicks together in Jungwoo’s head and he knows, he thinks he has already won. He’s not sure if he let his feelings show on purpose, or if Jungwoo has him finally figured out, found out his little giveaways, but something tells him, it is neither.

And then he realizes, it’s not only that he has gotten arrogant in his wins during the night, he has found interest in Jungwoo as well. He was not the only one thinking about kissing him, his eyes linger on Jungwoo’s tinted lips a little too long, and he feels his gaze sweep over his body in an all too casual matter, that makes it anything but that. 

In his mind, this game is already his, but there is another thing to win for him -  _ Jungwoo _ .

Then, their eye contact is interrupted, Yuta giving out the cards on the board, and now the perspective has shifted again. No, Jungwoo’s mind is no longer on just winning the money, on just winning over  _ him _ , but also, on keeping that curiosity in J’s eyes alive, drawing him to him, playing solely with him.

He doesn’t yet know that he has already won Jungwoo over, but he himself knows, he only comes at a prize, and that is his loss. And when he finally looks over the cards on the board, suppressing a smile becomes a task. 

_ Queen of hearts, king of clubs and the nine of hearts. _

The checking begins, Doyoung doing so, but there’s a certain hesitance in his movement that fills Jungwoo with glee.  _ He’s bluffing _ . J seemed to have sensed it as well, not even holding back the chuckle bubbling in his throat as he raises, the pot growing even further. At that, there is a sigh next to Jungwoo and Taeyong folds.

It’s Jungwoo’s turn now, and he has no intention of backing down, yet his fingers grab few chips, letting them glide through his grasp, seemingly lost in thought as if he were contemplating his next move, as if he wasn’t sure that he should dare to go along. It’s a cheap strategy, and one he knows J sees right through, but there’s a playfulness in it, an invitation for him to come and convince Jungwoo he is worth his time.

Jungwoo eventually lets out a heavy breath and checks. Yuta lays down the next card.

_ Seven of spades. _

Not exactly what he hoped for but still good enough to keep playing, but if he were honest, nothing would have made him drop out of this point. Oh no, he would bluff his way to the end just to entertain J.

And suddenly, Jungwoo and him were the only players left, everyone else having folded.  _ Perfect _ . He still have a very real chance at winning, doubting J could beat his hand, just as long as the final card is the one he needed. Their eyes meet again, the glee in his now enriched by fervor, and Jungwoo wasn’t sure if his heart is tattooing a faster rhythm against his ribcage then it normally does because of the game or his very presence.

The seconds seem to drag out to minutes to hours to an eternity before the last card finally is revealed and Jungwoo manages to tear his eyes away from him.

_ King of hearts. _

It’s hard to keep the grin threatening to take over his face in, but Jungwoo barely manages to do so, face as deceiving as it has been the whole time, but J doesn’t seem to be bothered with poker faces anymore as a smug smile contorts his mouth. An air of conceit surround him and  _ yes, this will be fun _ .

Jungwoo studies his cards again, going over all the possibilities, and he can’t have the better hand, it’s impossible, but he plays along anyway. So, when he pushes his chips in the middle of the table, calling all-in with a carefree tone, Jungwoo sighed heavily, putting on an act of despair as he add to the pot with dropped shoulders. “If I’m gonna lose, might as well go all the way, huh?”

J laughs at that, sending Jungwoo a wink and leans back into his chair. His fingers come to pick up the cards. The show off has begun.

Flicking them over, his cards complete the ones on the board, all the kings in all their glory laying in front of Jungwoo and he just laughs again.

_ Four of a kind. _

“It was lovely playing with you, sweetheart, but I think, this is mine now.” It’s the first time he addresses Jungwoo directly, and he would lie if he were to say his deep voice does not send shivers through his body like electric impulses resonating to the vibrations. J moves forwards to wrap his arms around his winnings.

But then, he catches the shift in Jungwoo’s position, the straightening of his back and the proud tilt of his chin and he freezes. He fell right into his trap.

“Wouldn’t you like to see to what hand you have, well, actually lost to?” Jungwoo muses, arching an eyebrow at him as the slightest hints of confusion and horror flash over his face. “I’m afraid it is not yours after all.”

And Jungwoo finally reveals his cards, showing the perfect sequence, all the same suit.

_ Straight Flush. _

“I have to say, it was an honor to play you, J, or was it to play  _ with you _ ? I can’t seem to remember how it goes.” Jungwoo calls out to him, sickly sweet, his lips stretching into a tight smile around the words as he carefully gauge his reaction.

But then, he is laughing, a deep sound bouncing of the walls and when he turns to Jungwoo, there is no malice in his expression like one would expect him to after losing all his money. There is only a mischievous glint as he cranes in closer, chin coming to rest on the palm of his hand.

“I have to admit, you got me good, darling.” He lazily picks up a card, twirling it in his slender fingers as he looks Jungwoo up and down, teeth coming to sink into his bottom lip before his pink tongue darts out to soothe the sting. “Shame it wasn’t a Royal Flush, you were so close, too.”

He casually throws the card, making it land just before Jungwoo, and he smiles when he takes it in.  _ The King of Hearts _ _. How fitting. _ He lifts out of his chair and walks around the table until he stands behind Jungwoo. Leaning down he only stops before he is inches away from his ear and his rich, heavy cologne fills his nose and _ god, he smells good. _

“Since you just won all that money off me, how about you buy me a drink with it?”

_ Bingo. _

Jungwoo has him right where he wants him to. But he doesn’t turn around, no, not yet. Picking up the card in front of him, holding it up between his index and middle finger, he let out a sigh. Finally facing him with a coy smile and darkened eyes, he silently hums in agreement, uncrossing his legs to stand up.

But he hasn’t moved an inch and the second Jungwoo is upright, his lips are right in front of him, looking all too enticing, and the gentleman he is, he does not wait to place a hand on the small of Jungwoo’s back as if he were to guide him outside in a safe manner.

Yet, neither of them move, caught up in each others presence. A shadow is moving just shy of the corner of Jungwoo’s eyes and when they both turn to look, they find the last of the other players having fled the room. He has to admit, the others all slipped his mind, all thoughts on solely him during the end, but seeing them gone, it fills him with delight. The door falls close and suddenly his gaze is back on Jungwoo, burning with an intensity like embers in his ashen charcoal eyes.

“I guess, having just won all that money, I can make an exception for you and be the one buying.” He brushes his hand over his suit, straightening all wrinkles as he tugs on the collar, and look back up to see his eyes are transfixed on Jungwoo’s lips, every movement of them taken in.

Jungwoo’s hand glides from his shoulder down to his chest, resting fawned out against the broad surface, muscles palpable under the fabric. He knows he’s got him fully wrapped around his finger, he wants him, wants to make Jungwoo his tonight, and he oh so bashfully catch his bottom lip with his teeth, worrying the plump skin, just to entertain himself with the need growing in his eyes.

It’s all it takes for him to growl something along the lines of  _ fuck the drink _ and close the little distance still between them. J’s lips press against Jungwoo’s, moving in an almost languid manner but there is a haste in his fingers as they search to dig into his waist that displays the desire coursing through his veins. He kisses him until they are breathless, mouth never leaving each other’s until Jungwoo is clawing his nails into his chest for him to break away.

J complies, leaving him to suck in a deep breath that gets stuck in his throat as he wastes no time to move to his jaw, teeth nibbling along the bone in sharp nips. His hands slip even further down Jungwoo’s waist, palms now pressing into his hips and he itches him closer until he’s flush against J’s chest, his knee coming to nudge his thighs apart until he can fit a leg in between.

Pushing up, he makes sure it aligns with Jungwoo’s bulge, adding pressure until he let out a soft sigh that has him grinning against his neck. Guiding his hips, J has him rolling down on him and with it lighting up sparks that shoot through Jungwoo’s body and turn into a warm sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Together with his warm breath dancing over the sensitive skin of Jungwoo’s throat, and the sting of teeth he carefully adds, has Jungwoo stifling little noises akin to whines all too soon, a desire for more taking hold of him.

But he seems in no rush, taking all the time he needs to rile him up, make him melt under his touch. Maybe, just like the younger, he likes the thrill of the game too much, is in it for that, rather than the win, and so, he drags it out for as long as possible. Or maybe, he wants to see how much Jungwoo can take before he crumbles, before his pride cracks and he’s begging for him. Whatever it is, that goes through his mind, Jungwoo is not having it.

_ He is not the only one that can tease… _

Jungwoo reaches up to tangle fingers into the delicate hairs on his nape, giving a slight tug as he brings him back to connect his lips with his while his other hands carefully dances over his chest, unbuttoning his jacket and tugging his soft silk shirt out of the waistband of his slacks. J groans into his mouth as he feels him trail a finger on the skin just shy of disappearing under the fabric and Jungwoo happily hums into his mouth.

He is straining against his pants, Jungwoo can feel the fabric, taut under his drifting fingers and god, how he enjoy keeping him on edge like that. He is much more impatient than Jungwoo haa been under teasing touches, constantly shifting closer to him, his hips pressing forward into his touch, and a small growl escaping him. Yet, he doesn’t complain, not ready to beg, either.

There is, however, the slight pain of fingers digging into Jungwoo’s ass and a pinch on his bottom lip as he continues his teasing, J’s endurance growing thin. He cannot help but giggle at that, pecking his lips as a small apology and finally unbuttoning his slacks, a hand gliding underneath his boxer briefs to grab his shaft.

A hiss escapes him at that, but his fingers are rubbing affirmative patterns on the small of Jungwoo’s back. And when he finally starts moving his hand, arduously slow, his head is thrown back, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut tightly. He looks both caught up in agony and bliss, a heavenly sight, and as Jungwoo oh so idly twists his wrist, he wonders how long he has been torturing himself with lewd thoughts to be so painfully hard.

By the time his thumb is spreading the drop of precum gathered at the tip, low moans are tumbling from his lips, the sound like music to his ears. A warm hand wanders up Jungwoo’s spine, the back of his neck until it is tightly tangled in his hair, as he leans back in to nurse at his jaw, a breath coming to tickle Jungwoo just shy of the shell of his ear. “Are you the devil? This is  _ torture _ .”

“I might just be…” Jungwoo trails off, now discarding his teasing for fast flicks of his wrists. He is nearly leaking precum at this point, making it all a smooth glide as Jungwoo moves faster and faster, feeling him tense under his touch. “Where’s the fun in playing nice?”

The words are accentuated by a harsh tug and a swift swipe of Jungwoo’s thumb and his dark eyes blacken completely like a stormy sky just waiting lightning to hit and thunder to roar, blown wide pupils bleeding into the irises.

J is getting closer by the second, his breath coming in heaving exhales that let his chest rise and fall, when Jungwoo slows down, his hips start chasing the pleasure, when he sped up, he was rewarded with low hums of appreciation.

Yet, it is all too much fun to play, and the second he feels him tense up, knowing, he is teetering the edge that leads to him falling and falling into a spiral of pleasure, Jungwoo withdraws.

Both his arms come to wrap around his neck, his breath hits his ear. “Enjoying yourself?”

He doesn’t respond, rather, he comes to drag Jungwoo backwards, lifting him up once he hit the table, and pressing him down until he was laid out on green velvet, legs on hanging over the edge, on full display for him.

Jungwoo has no doubts, that the dampness between his legs has left a visible stain on his underwear, but right now, he has no shame. Pulling the nearest seat closer, he sits down just in between his thighs.

“How about a little revenge, sweetheart?”

It’s said lightheartedly, a hum in his voice that is carefree, but Jungwoo didn’t miss the malice glint in his narrowed eyes, his hand coming to rest on the apex of his thighs as he lightly blows air over his bulge. And as much as Jungwoo wants to keep the upper hand, stay in control and show no sign of how much he affects him, he cannot help the shiver that shakes his whole body.

He does it again, smirking at the way he involuntarily react, before he takes it further, palm coming to caress his cock, taking it out of its confines and before he knows it, he leans forward, tongue licking a broad stripe upwards and wrapping around his cock.

Jungwoo’s hips snap upwards and J snakes an arm underneath his waist, pulling him closer as he laughs against Jungwoo, the vibrations of his deep chuckle resonating deep into his bones, tearing a whine out of his throat.

It just spurs J on more, tongue dancing around his tip, painting patterns onto Jungwoo’s sensitive spots, mouth hollow and throat deep. Jungwoo leans up, resting his weight on one elbow while the other hand tangles itself in his dark locks, tugging at the tendrils as in two minds, not sure whether he can handle the sharp pleasure or want more of it.

He can soon feel the coil in his stomach build, tightening with each pass of his tongue over his sensitive cock , more and more moans spilling over his lips, matching the waves of pleasure that crash through his body. 

There is a heat building inside of Jungwoo, running through all his veins, blotchy spots of red appearing just underneath his clavicles, dipping down all the way down his chest past the neckline of the shirt as his blood spreads the flaming sensation.

And when he comes to push one of his long fingers inside of him, Jungwoo is anything but ready for the intrusion, body clamping down and he lets out a curse, feeling him tighten around J. He curls his digit upwards,  _ again and again _ , forcing more and more noises out of Jungwoo, nearly overwhelming him with all the pleasure.

Slowly, but surely, he feels him release his muscles and he takes the opportunity to push him further. He enters another finger, taking his time to move them in and out. He sucks Jungwoo’s cock more, ignoring the way tremors shake his thighs next to his head.

He can feel Jungwoo is close, but there is no rush to him. The arm around his waist leaves, instead he uses his hand to untangle his out of his hair. The second he is free of Jungwoo’s grasp, his mouth leaves him, leaning back into the chair.

His other hand, still pumping its fingers around of him, is changing its position, him twisting his wrist so he can watch the precum gather at the tip, calmly watching him twist his face in bliss.

“Should I let you cum? Or should I wait until you are sitting on my dick? Whatcha saying, sweetheart?” He muses out loud, wiping Jungwoo’s still glistening juices off his chin and licking his lip to get the last of his taste. “I say, it’s way past the time I fuck you.”

Jungwoo eagerly agrees, his large hands feeling incredible but craving the feel of something stretching him out further, fucking into him much deeper. He chuckles at his ardor, hand leaving him to fish something out of the inside of his jacket, not ever bothered by the stains Jungwoo’s wetness on his fingers leave.

It gives him a moment to breathe and calm down, relaxing his muscles that he did not even noticed tensing up, and god knows he need it. His thighs are still shaking, and he feels his fleeting orgasm ebbing further and further away, but he knows, J will chase it right back the second he has rolled the condom over his hard length.

His hands wrap around Jungwoo’s calves, pulling his form the table onto his lap. Lifting his hips, he aligns himself with his anus and he sinks down on him with on smooth glide. They both let out a breathless gasp at the feeling, both of them erratic to finally come undone.

He wastes no time to thrust up, simultaneously crashing his lip back on Jungwoo’s. His hands find purchase in J’s jacket, clawing at his shoulders to ground himself, overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of being filled so deeply.

The sound of wet skin slapping against skin fills the room, echoing of the walls, and he is sure it is heard even down the hallway,  _ but so be it _ . Jungwoo is too far gone to care about anyone catching them.

His movements are frantic, hips grinding in an attempt to finally hunt down the sweet satisfaction that has been threatening to overtake him for way too long now. He is close as well, even closer to losing himself than Jungwoo is, groaning into his mouth, his hands at his hips forcing him down.

Tightening around him, Jungwoo tries to push him over the edge, forcing him into pure bliss, and it works, he is groaning and growling into his mouth as his hips stutter and he fills up the condom with his seed.

He keeps his rhythm steady, milking out J’s orgasm until he is nearing overstimulation. But before he even has fully come back to his senses or caught his breath he is reaching down and grasping Jungwoo’s cock in between his fingers.

“Come one, cum for me. Cum all over me, babyboy.”

It’s enough to give Jungwoo the rest, hot white pleasure fills him up, making him lose all sense of time and reality, only knowing the feeling of his cock deep inside of him and his lips on Jungwoo as his single anchor.

J nips at his bottom lip, patiently waiting for him to regain the strength in his legs to stand up. Jungwoo finally does, after a short eternity, straighten his suit and fixing his underwear with just the slightest of wavering noticeable.

He feels his gaze on him, taking in every detail of his gestures, and he feels himself not being able to tear away just yet. No, Jungwoo can still ruin him a bit further. Leaning back down to kiss him once again, his hand wraps around J’s slowly softening cock, once again flicking his wrists. He winces at the painful overstimulation, only made worse by the cum filled condom still on him.

He trashes underneath Jungwoo, a large hand wrapping around his forearm to stop him, and this is his sign to leave. Letting him pull his arm away, Jungwoo moves his lips up to his cheek, placing a soft kiss there. “It was a fun game tonight. Maybe we’ll meet again,  _ J _ .”

“Jung Jaehyun.” His eyes are still closed, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “My name is Jung Jaehyun. Let me hear you say it before you go.”

“Is that so,  _ Jung Jaehyun _ ?”

“God, I should have made you  _ moan  _ it, sweetheart.” He groans, thumb carefully caressing Jungwoo’s wrist. “Now tell me yours. I need to know.”

He finally opened his eyes at Jungwoo’s silence, seeing the coy curl of his lips, before he slips out of his grasp, towards the door. “I’m afraid that’s a secret,  _ Jung Jaehyun _ .”

And with that he is gone, leaving only the taste of his lips behind. And maybe, once he sorts out his disheveled appearance, he will discover the card sticking out of his pocket square, the red on the back of the card looking all too enticing against the black of his suit, and, if he cares to look at it, he will find the only name he will ever know Jungwoo as, and he will learn, that not even a man like Jaehyun is capable to rule over him.

_ The King of Hearts. _

  
  



End file.
